"What you scouts need is a good frisky dog for a pet. You can have chickens, if you like, but they are a nuisance. They stray away to lay their eggs, and if they were kept cooped you'd have to spend valuable time making a suitable inclosure. But a dog will go hiking with you, guard you at night from elephants and other prowling animals of the jungle, and be a fine old pal to boot," said Mr. Gilroy.
"Oh, why didn't we think to bring Jippy," exclaimed Amy. Jip was a little poodle of about fifteen years and had had the rickets for the past five years, so he had to be carried about.
The moment the scouts saw that Amy was in earnest they fairly roared, and Judith finally said: "Oh, Amy's catching the ingénue habit from Betty! What shall we do with two of them on hand?"
"Had we but known of this dire need of a dog, we would have brought Towser—had he lived. He was only twenty-two this March, and had full use of his bark even though he had no teeth or eyesight. But, alas! alas! Towser is no more!" sighed Julie, rolling her eyes.
As Towser had been one of the "old settlers" in Elmertown, he was known to every man, woman and child there. Many a time, because he was stone-deaf and had not heard the blast from the horn, some one would have to rush out to rescue him from a passing automobile. So Julie's lament caused a new burst of merriment.
"Stop all fooling now, scouts, and listen to me," said Mr. Gilroy. "I mean a regular dog—an Irish terrier, or a bulldog, to chum with and be of some good to you. How'd you like it?"
"There ain't no sech critter in camp," retorted Julie.
"But I know where to get one! His name is Jake, and he is very fond of the ladies, I'm told."
"His name sounds dreadfully rakish, Gilly," teased Joan.
"If Jacob is as faithful as his name would imply, we'd like to meet him," added Mrs. Vernon, smiling.